


True and Truer Still

by AdelaideElaine



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Good!Hans, Happily Ever After, Jealousy, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, True Love, True Love's Kiss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 13:03:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1160055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdelaideElaine/pseuds/AdelaideElaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hans took a deep breath and pressed one of his gloved hands against Anna’s pale cheek. He leaned forward and kissed her soft lips. They were cold. Their kiss deepened. Hans could feel Anna’s heartbeat, as quick as a rabbit’s, beating against his own chest. </p><p>Her lips remained cold.</p><p>Hans pulled away and met Anna’s eye, and they both knew that whatever that kiss had been, it had not been an Act of True Love, for the princess’ skin remained cold and blue, and her hair was turning whiter by the minute. A dumbfounded look of horror was creeping across Anna’s face and Hans knew that his expression must match hers.</p><p>“You’re not my true love,” she managed, finally.</p><p>[An AU in which Hans isn't really evil at all. Anna/Kristoff, Hans/Elsa, and some Anna/Hans.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic in years and years, and my first time ever writing for animated characters. I was so inspired by "Frozen." I think Kristoff may be my favorite prince ever, but I took a shine to Hans and I thought I'd give redeeming him a shot. Enjoy.

**PROLOGUE**

 

In terms of mindless tasks, searching the castle for extra cloaks wasn’t so bad. Hans didn’t mind chores, so long as he could feel useful and helpful—something that rarely happened at home on the Southern Isles. Plus, there was the added bonus of getting to explore the castle.

 

The servants of Castle Arendelle began to fret when Hans half-crawled, half-slid into a dusty attic space in search of old stable blankets, streaking his dove gray coat with dust. He simply removed his jacket and continued on his way. The people of Arendelle couldn’t wait much longer for good, warm things; and as the King of the Southern Isles had always said, if you wanted something done right, you had to do it yourself. It was kind, though, Hans thought, for the servants of Arendelle to try to look after him. Their loyalty and patience spoke highly of the rulers of Arendelle, past and present.

 

It was the present rulers Hans was concerned with, though; especially the elegant, haughty queen, casting spells from God Knows Where. Hans wondered what fate the people of Arendelle would decide for her when she was finally found, and a chill of dread ran down his spine, settling in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t sure if it was fear of or _for_ Queen Elsa, but he shivered all the same, longing, not for his coat, but for the pressure of a small, warm hand, strange but already so familiar, at his elbow.

 

 _Anna._ He’d been so sure she’d be back by now. Of course, she didn’t have any tracking or mountaineering skills, exactly, but she had just seemed so _confident._ It was impossible to look into her big, blue eyes and disbelieve a word she said, or deny her anything.

 

 _Or were her eyes gray? Green?_ Hans suddenly found himself struggling to remember what his future wife’s eyes looked like after all…in is memory, her constellation of freckles shifted across her face, and it was impossible for him to say where they should stick. Hans yanked an old wool blanket from a nearby shelf with a little too much force, and coughed and gagged on the cloud of dust it produced. He ran a hand over his exhausted face and sighed.

 

Maybe Hans had proposed a little too hastily. Even he could admit that. But in the moment, it had just felt so right. He hadn’t come to Arendelle looking for a wife, but wasn’t true love what happened when you weren’t looking for it? One of his older brothers had told him that once. Probably. To be honest, Hans’ twelve older brother dispensed so much unsolicited advice that it was hard for Hans to think straight, let alone remember it all.

 

He could remember exactly how he felt out on that balcony with Anna, though. Her smile gave him a warm feeling in his belly that bloomed and spread throughout his entire body. For the first time in forever, he felt special. And how could he deny himself a lifetime of that feeling?

 

So, he didn’t know her that well yet. So what? They’d have plenty of time to get to know each other. They had the rest of their lives.

 

Hans thought Anna’s kiss would taste like chocolate, and blushed at the thought, alone in the dark attic.

 

He gathered up the pile of blankets he’d founded, and carefully descended the attic ladder, depositing them into an empty hamper offered by a servant. The girls’ old nanny, Gerda, was immediately on hand with a clothes brush and Hans’ gray coat. When she was done dusting him off, she helped him on with his coat and, smiling, pinched his cheek. “Very handsome,” she remarked, as the manservant with the basket of blankets gave her a scandalized look.

 

Hans smiled at her boldness, and glanced at himself in a nearby mirror, huge and ornately framed. The reflection who smiled back at him was a stranger, even to Hans. He had aged immeasurably over the past few days. The pressures of running an entire kingdom, about which he knew almost nothing, were visible in the dark circles under his eyes, and the gauntness of his cheeks.

 

In truth, it was all a bit too much. Hans sighed heavily, and sent of a silent plea to Anna, wherever she was.

 

_Please come home soon. And bring the queen with you!_

_I’m ready for our Happily Ever After to begin._


	2. Chapter One

**CHAPTER ONE**

 

It was difficult to think and fight at the same time, especially when one’s opponent was a giant snow monster. But even as Hans dove to avoid the monster’s knife-sharp ice claws, he saw Weaselton’s grim-faced henchmen dash up the stairs of the beautiful frozen castle and knew: _They are going to kill the queen._

The snow monster brought down one of its giant feet, hard, and Hans just managed to roll out of the way in time. Without a second thought, he raced after Weaselton’s men, leaving his own soldiers to finish off the monster. _They are going to kill the queen._

Even as he pursued them, Hans couldn’t help but have a slight feeling of disbelief. Treason! He thought this sort of thing only happened in novels. He was going to stop a treasonous plot— _him,_ Hans of the Southern Isle, the invisible prince, the one everyone had hoped would be a girl.

 

But even if Elsa hadn’t been royalty, what Weaselton’s men were going to try to do was _wrong._ He didn’t know Elsa, but no sister of Anna’s could be evil. And, alright, he didn’t really know Anna very well either; but now he knew Arendelle. Hans knew that there was no way that the servants would be as devoted to the sisters as they obviously were if they were being secretly abused by sorcery, and the same went for the subjects of the village, whose immediate acceptance of Hans as their temporary ruler showed that they still trusted their royals.

 

When it came to magical powers, you were either born with the power, or cursed. Everyone knew that. If Elsa had, at some point during her youth, been cursed, then it was mostly likely not her fault. Hans guessed that a draugr had bound the girl to ice to punish her father, now sleeping at the bottom of the sea, for some infraction. Even if she had been born with her powers, she clearly hadn’t intended to use them for evil, or she needn’t have waited until her coming-of-age to freeze the kingdom, and then run away.

 

Hans often thought about that night—such a whirlwind of excitement from the very start-- and the events that had led up to the moment the queen dashed away across the rapidly freezing fjord. He suspected that Anna, who claimed that Elsa’s powers were a result of her being overwhelmed and frightened, was right. Then, didn’t that make this eternal winter, brought on by his sudden marriage proposal, at least partially his fault? This was the thought that kept him awake late at night, shivering in an unfamiliar bed. He would remember the dry coughs of the sickly, freezing children he had delivered soup and bread to, and feel almost nauseated with guilt. Tomorrow there would have to be more soup, more bread, more cloaks and blankets and medicine. The people of Arendelle needed it. And they deserved it.

 

“Bless you, Prince Hans,” they croaked feebly, as he walked through the town square, passing out bundles of firewood. “Bless you,” they whispered gratefully, their breath rising in clouds in front of them.

 

Would they still accept him if they knew that it was he who’d brought on the bone-chilling cold?

 

Hans pushed all these fears out of his head and focused on making his footsteps as quiet as possible on the shimmering ice floor—no easy task. But he moved quickly across the slick floor, adrenaline shutting out the fear of slipping and falling on the ice and breaking every bone in his body. Soon enough, the queen came into view. But she was nothing like he’d ever seen before.

 

The first thing Hans noticed was the queen’s hair. Unbound from its’ elegant updo, its’ true wild nature was revealed. It shimmered impossibly white in the surreal light of the ice palace. Her gown, a mesmerizing, shining thing, seemed to be made of ice, and the sparkling cloak of frost. Her hemline was much shorter than propriety usually allowed, and it revealed dainty feet, delicate ankles, and even one slim calf. The smooth, pale skin of her arms was visible through her shimmering sleeves. Those arms were trembling with the effort of keeping one of Weaselton’s men pinned against the wall, and shoving the other out onto the balcony.

 

Having been struck momentarily speechless by the sheer majesty of the sight in front him, Hans finally found his voice: “Don’t be the monster they fear you are!”

 

The queen turned to look over her shoulder at him, and Hans saw real fear shining in her large blue eyes for just a moment, before, out of the corner of his vision, a cross-bow rose, harder and sharper and meaner than the ice that surrounded them.

 

***

For creatures so heavy, dense, and rotund, it was amazing just how _fast_ those trolls could move. Even after all these years of living with them, basically being raised by them, Kristoff could still marvel at way they seemed to defy all basic laws of nature.

 

And it wasn’t just their bodies that moved fast, oh no. He’d suspected that they’d take a shine to Anna, whose sunny, up-beat disposition matched theirs perfectly, but now they were sizing her up as _wife_ material for _him_ , and it was just way, way too much.

 

Kristoff had always loved the trolls for their absolute, unwavering faith in him, but surely, in all their wisdom, they _had_ to know that a princess marrying an ice cutter was completely out of the question.

 

Sure, maybe Kristoff had entertained the idea of what it’d be like to hold Anna’s hand on one of their (few) quiet moments during the trek. And maybe that thought had led to one about kissing her soft, pink lips. And maybe, just maybe, that daydream had led to another, much more elaborate one involving him and Anna alone (and naked) back in the shack outside Oaken’s Trading Post and Sauna, having a roll in the hay, in both the literal and proverbial sense.

 

Kristoff tried to brush off these fantasies like the snow that dusted his shoulders and clung to his shaggy blonde hair. He’d simply been without female companionship since…always. If any other girl had marched into that shed and tossed a bag with a pick and rope into his lap, he would have followed her instead.

 

Only, Kristoff couldn’t imagine any other girl besides Anna having the nerve to leave home to entrust her life to a strange man, all to save a sister who’d, by all accounts, rejected her. And when Anna was looking up at him with her large, trusting eyes, Kristoff found that he couldn’t imagine any other girl. Period.

 

The trolls rolled and bounded around them at an alarming pace. Even Anna, whose high spirits, Kristoff suspected, had never before been matched (except, perhaps, by _Hans_ , a cruel little part of his brain sneered), seemed a little overwhelmed. Her normally bright smile trembled and her pink cheeks had paled considerably. Although, that could be the effects of the queen’s curse. Kristoff didn’t really understand what had happened—it had all happened so fast—but he could tell that it was serious, and growing more serious by the minute. He felt panic bubbling up inside them—he had to make the trolls understand.

 

“She is engaged to somebody else!” He cried out, more than a little desperately. The trolls just blinked in response. Anna’s face slacked slightly, with surprise and something else Kristoff couldn’t name. Admittedly, he was surprised at himself. He’d meant to yell “She’s been cursed”… hadn’t he?

 

Before he could give his slip-up a second thought, he’d had a thick, mossy cape draped over his broad shoulders, and a heavy birch crown thunked onto his head in place of his standard gray cap.

 

Through the weaving maze of trolls, Kristoff saw Anna, similarly outfitted. His heart jumped to his throat…even covered in moss and weeds, she looked beautiful, like a flower just beginning to blossom. Best of all, she was smiling and giggling. Any other princess—any other _girl_ —would have been put-off by the trolls’ zeal for match-making, and their downright rock-headed stubbornness. But Anna held their rough stone hands, and matched their eager grins with warm ones of her own.

 

The trolls shuffled Kristoff and Anna into a pit. They were so close that Kristoff could look down and count the freckles scattered across her little nose. He could see the ice crystals that had formed on the tips of her eyelashes. He could see the little puffs of steam coming from her mouth.

 

As his feet sunk into the soil, he felt his spirits sink too.

 

He really was a goner.


	3. Chapter Two

**CHAPTER TWO**

 

Hans winced as he watched Queen Elsa tug at the chains that bound her hands through the bars in the door of her cell. One of Weaselton’s maroon-clad thugs guarded the door. Hans hated these men. They wore the guise of gentlemen, but they were brutes, every last one of them, with not a drop of chivalry in them. The prince strained to keep his voice polite and even as he spoke to the man. “Were the manacles really necessary?”

 

The guard grunted dully. “Can’t have her usin’ those powers again.”

 

Hans nodded shortly, peering into the cell window again, before asking, quietly “May I go in a speak to her?”

 

The guard grunted again. “Dunno if that’s a good idea.”

 

Hans stood up a little straighter. “I am acting ruler of Arendelle,” he said, with every bit of gravity he could muster. “So you’ll excuse my saying so, but it wasn’t really a request.”

 

Still looking incredibly bored for a man who had a potentially treasonous sorceress mere feet away, the guard unlocked the queen’s cell door and let Hans inside.

 

As soon as she sensed his presence, Hans saw her posture straighten, her shoulders dropping into a regal and elegant pose, in spite of the chains that bound her. In spite of everything that had happened at the coronation, and later at the Ice Palace, Hans admired her for that. She was, after all, still the queen.

 

When she told Hans she didn’t know how to bring back summer, he was frightened and disappointed—but he believed her. And when Hans told the queen that he would do what he could to free her, he hoped she believed him, as well.

 

After all, they wanted the same thing. The return of warmth, sunshine, and joy—the return of Anna.

 

***

 

Anna was, at that moment, being raced to the castle on the back of a reindeer. Her head, capped with Kristoff’s worn gray hat, bounced against the ice cutter’s shoulder. Held close to his body in one strong arm, the shivers that had been wracking her body since Elsa struck her quieted a little. She pressed her frost-burned cheek against his collar and breathed in the smell of him.

 

It wasn’t half so bad as the trolls had made it out to be. In fact, Anna found herself liking that he smelled musky and manly, instead of smelling like a cologne that any man could purchase at a store. Hans, for instance, wore a lovely cologne. It smelled nice, except for the slightly chemical tang that stung the nostrils if one stood a little too close.

 

Anna shivered deeply at the turn her train of thought had taken, and Kristoff pulled her closer, the reddened tip of her nose rubbing against the slight scruff of his neck.

 

Sven wasn’t exactly graceful, and as soon they hit cobblestones, Kristoff and Anna were bouncing and jouncing along more violently than before, but Anna still found herself almost wishing that the wild ride didn’t have to come to an end.

 

***

 

A kind-looking manservant opened his arms for the obviously sick Anna as soon as Kristoff, Sven, and the princess bounded up to the castle’s gate, and still Kristoff found his grip on the girl tightening slightly. Other servants were rushing to meet them, and Kristoff felt at the same time relieved and disappointed. He’d wanted to have a moment for a special, private goodbye—but now the pressure was off. He didn’t have to say anything eloquent, or anything at all.

 

He held to the daring hope that this wouldn’t be goodbye after all.

 

But then Anna was being gently lifted from Kristoff’s arms and he felt fear wrap an icy hand around his heart and squeeze tightly.

 

“Keep her warm,” he croaked after the departing servants, pathetically. Anna threw one last feeble, but genuine, smile over her shoulder, and then Kristoff watched as the soft, pink figure grew smaller and smaller. Soon she had been ushered inside the castle and then, only when she was truly out of view, did he turn around to leave.

 

Sven nudged Kristoff on the small of his back as he shuffled back into the village.

 

_You forgot your hat._

Kristoff sighed. “I didn’t forget it, Sven,” he replied shortly.

 

_You want Anna to have it? To remember you by?_

“I guess I do. But you don’t have to say it out loud! You make it sound so embarrassing.”

 

Sven made a noise that was somewhere between a snort and a whinny. Kristoff had come to understand that this sound meant Sven was laughing at him.

 

_Or did you use as an excuse to go back to the castle again?_

Kristoff didn’t respond, but stomped away a little faster, and Sven laughed again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all are enjoying this story so far! I am trying to explore this different side of Hans without turning him into a total Mary-Sue.
> 
> Reviews help me write faster! They honestly are so helpful to me. It would be so wonderful if you left one. Just an idea...
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> \-- Lady


	4. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in an update! I have been struggling with some healthy problems. Hopefully the next part will be posted much sooner. Enjoy! -- Lady

Hans didn’t know what he had respected for Anna’s return, but her flopping into his arms and crying “Kiss me, kiss me” was certainly not it. Even the level-headed Gerda looked alarmed as she tried to shepherd the visiting nobles from the parlor, promising to give the couple “some privacy.”

 

Anna was trembling, and as Hans drew her closer, pressing her against his chest, he could feel that her body was as cold as ice. Just before Gerda closed the door behind her, he called out to her over Anna’s head: “Please fetch the Queen, Gerda.”

 

Gerda looked shocked. “But, Prince Hans—“

 

“Please,” Hans tried to keep the panic out of his voice, so as not to alarm Anna, “Tell the guards it’s an emergency, and as your sovereign, I command it.”

 

Gerda curtsied hastily and left the room, shutting the door behind her. Anna had all but collapsed against Hans. He carefully guided her to the nearby settee. “What happened?” he asked urgently, brushing a stray lock of strawberry blonde hair away from her blue ( _blue! They were blue after all!_ ) eyes.

 

“Elsa froze my heart,” she explained feebly, clinging weakly to his arms as she lay back on the couch. “Only an act of true love can save me. Please, Hans,” she croaked.

 

Hans felt his heart slamming against his chest. How many men could say that their first kiss with a sweetheart had life and death hanging in the balance—literally. It was a lot of pressure. Hans didn’t mind kissing Anna; she was beautiful, and he could fall in love with her, if he hadn’t already. But he had hoped that when they shared their first kiss, it would be under happier circumstances.

 

All the same, Hans took a deep breath and pressed one of his gloved hands against Anna’s pale cheek. He leaned forward and kissed her soft lips. They were cold. Their kiss deepened. Hans could feel Anna’s heartbeat, as quick as a rabbit’s, beating against his own chest.

 

Her lips remained cold.

 

Hans pulled away and met Anna’s eye, and they both knew that whatever that kiss had been, it had not been an Act of True Love, for the princess’ skin remained cold and blue, and her hair was turning whiter by the minute. A dumbfounded look of horror was creeping across Anna’s face and Hans knew that his expression must match hers.

 

“You’re not my true love,” she managed, finally.

 

“No, I guess I’m not,” Hans said hollowly. The realization felt like a punch to the gut, a sensation he was not unfamiliar with, as he had twelve older brothers.

 

“Sorry,” Anna said weakly.

 

A lump rose in Hans’ throat, and he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said firmly. “It is I who should be apologizing to you.

 

Anna was shivering harder than ever, and tears sprung to her eyes. “Am I going to die?” she whispered hoarsely. Elaborate patterns of blue frost were already spreading across her cheeks.

 

Before Hans could answer the terrible question, the doors to the parlor burst open. At the center of a circle of huge, burly guards stood Elsa. She was sobbing so hard that the chains imprisoning her rattled. “Anna!” she cried. “Anna!”

 

Anna struggled to sit, despite the obvious stiffness in her limbs. “What are you doing to her? Why is she imprisoned?” The princess’ eyes were larger than ever, shining with fear. “She is the queen!”

 

Elsa tried to draw nearer to her sister, but the guards only closed their ranks. The queen let out a howl of heartbroken frustration, a Hans saw ice begin to creep up the chains that bound her.

 

“Let her go!” Anna screamed in her broken voice, and the Duke of Weaselton slid out from behind his pair of cronies.

 

“Your highness,” he began, in a sickly sweet voice, “While your sisterly devotion is admirable, I’m afraid your loyalty has little bearing on the situation at hand. Anyone who threatens the life of a member of the royal family is a traitor to Arendelle—we have charged her with treason.”

 

Anna let out a cry of despair, and Elsa rattled her icy chains, panicked. It was Hans who responded to the Duke: “You had no right!” he shouted, furious. “I was Arendelle’s sovereign, but now that Anna has returned—“

 

“Oh, do shut up,” Weaselton snapped, “Unlucky number thirteen.”

 

With one last roar of anger, Elsa wrenched out of her chains, turned brittle with frost, and threw herself out of the circle of guards.

 

“Witchcraft! Black magic!” The Duke screamed, stomping one of his tiny, high-heeled feet. He shouted to his guards,“Bring this winter to an end! Now!”

 

The guards all drew their swords, but before they could take a step towards Elsa, Anna had mustered the last of her strength, and flung herself in front of her sister. “No!” she cried.

 

It was her last word before she froze to solid ice.

 

There was a clatter of metal as the stunned guards let their swords fall back by their sides. Even the Duke of Weaselton was rendered speechless. As the queen threw her arms around her sister, a statue now, and wept bitterly, Hans sank slowly to his knees. He had failed the only girl who’d ever believed in him. He’d failed the only kingdom that had ever really felt like home. He had failed the young queen, whose delicate body shook painfully with sobs that seemed to tear themselves from her very soul.

 

Hans was a failure. All was lost.

 

Or so it seemed.

 

Elsa’s cries began to peter out, replaced by little gasps of surprise, and even…delight? Hans lifted his head cautiously, and saw that the place just above Anna’s heart had begun to thaw.

 

***

 

Kristoff was on the outskirts of the village, almost back at the forest, when he felt a warm breeze tickle the back of his neck. He sighed. That’s what he got for giving away his hat.

 

A _warm_ breeze…

 

Kristoff stopped suddenly in his tracks. Sven bumped into him and made a disgruntled noise. Kristoff turned back to look at the village and the castle.

 

It was thawing. Slowly, but surely.

 

Sven made a giddy noise of surprise. The snow was melting from right below their feet.

 

Spring had returned. Kristoff _should_ have been overjoyed.

 

“See,” he told Sven, flatly, “Hans was her true love, after all.”

 

Sven, wisely, said nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! -- Lady


End file.
